The Rebellion
by slave to perfection
Summary: The untold story of Edward's rebellious years. R


**This is an idea that has been bouncing around in my head for a while now, enjoy.**

**I own nothing but the plot. **

Anne's breath could be seen in the air as she hurried home. Life as a maid could be hard, the hours long and the work backbreaking. Each evening as she made her way home she wondered if she was born to the wrong family, if she was actually meant to be part of greater things. As embarrassing as it was she still wondered that, maybe, she may have a great life in front of her, a better life than the one she was in currently. A life filled with dresses that kissed the floor, a life filled with parties attended by the trendsetters, with beaus and beauty, jewels and laughter.

The warmth of her daydreams left her as she heard the ice on the path crunch with a second pair of feet. Anne knew better than to look behind her. She had been extremely late tonight, so late the only other persons out were easily recognised as scum or predators. With practised ease Anne ducked her head and picked up her pace, so now she walked in a brisk fashion, as if in a hurry. She did not slow even though she could no longer hear the footfalls behind her. As she rounded a corner she risked a look behind her and saw nothing. Cursing her overactive imagination she continued home.

The roads quality deteriorating signified to Anne that she was nearly home. The houses slowly turned rundown and unkempt. Her mind was still filled with champagne and splendour so she missed her name being called behind her. The second time it was called however she hear

d the musical voice clearly. It sounded male and almost American. Her actions cautious, she turned to see who wanted her attention. He definitely didn't belong in this part of town however he didn't belong in the world of her dreams either. He was roughly middle class, she surmised, and had the face of an angel. Her name fell from his lips again and she wondered how he knew it, why he was here and what he wanted with her. Although he assured her he meant her no pain or harm her body and gut were screaming at Anne to escape the inevitable.

He stepped closer and she took one back, almost dancing, though without the music. Again he promised not to hurt her and again her gut told her to flee. All he wanted was to ask her one question, just one. The lilting voice caused her head to nod without her permission. Why did she smile when she had nothing to smile about? When there was so much unhappiness and danger just around the corner, what could she find to smile about? He seemed genuinely curious but there was something else, the way he leaned towards her, the way his eyes looked at her, the way he took deep breaths. It all made him appear to not be in the right frame of mind, though he was completely lucid. Her answer came slowly. There was always the chance that everything could turn around, that all the unhappiness would be wiped away. Her answer seemed to calm him. It was hope she had, he surmised; hope that things would right themselves. Anne would never tell this well to do stranger the real reasons for her smiles so she agreed, it was hope she had. She moved to continue home but was stopped by the stranger, who was impossibly standing in front of her. She cursed her imagination again, surely her mind was tired and playing tricks on her. The stranger smiled slightly, as if amused. He wondered aloud where she was rushing off to, right in the middle of their nice conversation. Her gut began screaming now, run it said, get away. However her manners told her to stay and politely ask for leave, as if at work. Her manners won over her instincts and emotions. Demurely, her face turned to the pavement, she stated that it was late and she was expected home. Again she moved to leave and again he stopped her. His words no longer made sense and she feared for his mentality. He babbled about choices and how hard being good was. About disobeyment and pain. Our dear Lizzie knew not what to do, run or comfort the poor gentlemen. She told her instincts to hush and listened to the stranger and nodded where it seemed appropriate. Her eyes grew wide as he took a few steps toward her, complimenting her on her mouth-watering scent. Her stammered thanks was shaky and frail. Almost as frail as her body in the strangers point of view. He could almost see the vital blood pumping its course around her body. Her voice brought his attention back to her face and he smiled at her words. She wondered if he was alright, in his right mind. He wondered too, but he feared it was too late for his mind now. He wanted her and he would give her up for no one. As his resistance grew thin his breath became deeper which scared Anne no more than the babbling had. Again she hinted at her need to leave and again she was cut off. Anne's heart was pumping wildly now, tempting the stranger further. Unsure with what was troubling him Anne suggested a nice hot meal somewhere. His nod was vague and she was unnerved to notice that he was staring at her again. No, not at her, into her. As if he could see all her inner workings. His hand was suddenly gripping her bare wrist, searing it with its chill. He apologised for keeping her and the relief was overwhelming. He was letting her return home. The relief faded as she listened to his next words however, which then chilled her to the bone. He confessed to her that she would never return home, he couldn't allow that. His next confession made her want to cry. He was the one they hunted for, he was Jack the Ripper. But that wasn't his real name, no, his real name was Edward. A perfectly acceptable name he murmured. Jack was made up by some reporter he informed her, as were the style of killing. He quickly assured her that she wouldn't feel a thing. He would make it look like the other murders of course, but she wouldn't be here for that. Her eyes closed and she sent up a prayer. Then her eyes quickly opened, looking for anyone she could find to help her. Edward apologised one last time and gripped her hand tighter. She had been about to run for it but his tightened grip left her unable to move. He whispered for her to retreat to her daydreams, to escape. She didn't even feel his lips at her shoulder, she was far to numb for that. Anne suddenly realised, he was right. She had hope, even now when everything looked bleak she still hoped.

As her attacker continued and her eyelids grew heavy, her mind was at peace. In her mind she was at a grand ball in a beautiful dress that brushed against the floor, champagne in hand. She was laughing at something her chaperone and beau had whispered in her ear. He looked at her as if she were as precious as the rare gems around her neck. She felt safe and wanted in his arms, she never wanted to leave. Yet, no matter how she struggled, her vision grew fuzzy, her heart beat grew slow. Her eyes wandered of their own accord to that of her beaus and the last thing she saw was his warm eyes, filled with awe and wonder. Then she felt herself slipping, her grip on reality fading with each pitiful beat of her tired heart. Anne then knew no more, her heart no longer beat, her mind no longer dreamed and she was left in an alleyway, nameless and alone once again.

**Review with any questions you may have or just your thoughts. **


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